


Breakout Sessions

by grapehyasynth



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, And is sometimes too literal, Episode: Rooms By The Hour, M/M, Misunderstandings, Patrick just wants to learn accounting, Regional Accounting Conference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29248812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapehyasynth/pseuds/grapehyasynth
Summary: Breakout session. They’d called it a breakout session!He’d asked the guy standing on the sidewalk outside the motel which room the breakout session was in. The guy had grunted and pointed to this one. Was breakout session some code that all the other accountants knew?!Or, Patrick attends the regional accounting conference and winds up at the motel during Ep 305 Rooms By The Hour
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 23
Kudos: 171





	Breakout Sessions

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't felt like writing much lately so I'm trying to inspire myself by knocking off some of the shorter things on my list
> 
> As in the episode this is set during, there are vague but I hope respectful allusions to sex work in this ficlet.

Patrick has made a terrible mistake. 

All he’d wanted was some extra practice with the principles they’d laid out in the morning seminar. 

And now he’s trapped alone with a woman wearing not very much clothing. 

Breakout session. They’d called it a breakout session! 

He’d asked the guy standing on the sidewalk outside the motel which room the breakout session was in. The guy had grunted and pointed to this one. Was _breakout session_ some code that all the other accountants knew?! 

He’d taken his coat off when he’d come in, to make himself comfortable to wait for the rest of the group, and now he realizes what it looks like, sitting here with her with his coat off. Thank god he’d left his notepad in the car. Maybe he should - let her give her spiel, at least let her make a pass before he shuts this down? It doesn’t seem polite to bail when he doesn’t _technically_ know that what he thinks is happening is actually happening. 

Bizarrely, he’s extra grateful in this moment that he’s gay. It’ll make it much easier to explain to her why he can’t accept her very kind offer. He might still have to leave her a tip, or something, but - 

Though now he’s wondering what kind of heteronormative stereotype people hold of accountants that they’d just _assumed_ on looking at him that he’d want the ... _breakout session_ with a woman. 

He feels a slight sweat break out on his temple. She’s smiling at him gently, asking if he’s nervous. How can he tell her that he’s just thought about a scenario in which he’d walked into this room to find a man instead, and _that’s_ the thought making his heart stutter? 

He’s not sure he would’ve turned down _that_ one-on-one session. 

“Why don’t we get you a drink, honey,” she offers, already standing, and this has gone on far too long. He’ll never learn the new QuickBooks features this way. 

“It’s 2PM,” he says automatically as she reaches for two glasses, and then he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so judgy. I should - I should go. The next panel is on quarterly projections and I really should-” 

“It doesn’t have to take long,” she says, abandoning the drinks and striding towards him instead. 

He scrambles up, grabbing his coat and walking backwards towards the door. “Thank you, so much, and I’m sure the next person will be more- well- Should I send your next client in?” he asks, like it’s the doctor’s office or something, but not waiting for a response as he yanks the door open and stumbles outside. 

“Come back later if you change your mind, sugar!” she calls after him. 

Patrick glances back to wave - _fucking hell, Brewer_ , laughs a voice in his head that sounds like Rachel - and in the process runs into someone standing outside the motel’s office. Literally runs into them. 

“Well, your pants aren’t literally around your ankles, but that was _not_ pretty.” 

Patrick glances up, and oh god, maybe it’s just that he’s been spending too much time with other accountants these last few days but the man in front of him is _stunning_ , his mouth a tilde of amusement, the black of his shoes and sweater and hair commanding the eyes up the full length of his body. 

“Believe me, what I lack in pants around my ankles I make up for in tail between my legs,” Patrick admits, and the man’s dimple deepens, so it’s worth it. “It was all a - all a misunderstanding.” 

“Hmm. You know, the proprietor of this establishment assures me the same thing, and yet, here you are, running into me.” 

“If the proprietor is anything like me, he takes it at face value when people say _breakout sessions_ ,” Patrick chuckles, shrugging into his coat.

“Mm. He definitely does. I’m so sorry for you both.” 

Patrick laughs. “No chance you’re hiding some accounting experts in one of these other rooms, huh?” 

The man’s whole face puckers for a second before it smooths again. “No, but I'm sure my mom could pretend to be one.” 

A minute ago Patrick had wanted to get away from this motel as fast as vehicularly possible, and now he just wishes he could think of more pithy excuses to take up this man’s time. “Well, I guess I should get back to the actual conference. Thanks for being such a gentle witness to my humiliation.” 

“Um, unless-” the man starts to say, putting a hand in the air as if to touch Patrick’s arm as he goes by, and Patrick wishes he would. “I know a place? If you wanted to drown your humiliation later. After the conference. Or make some better memories of this town.” 

His face is an incongruous blend of shy and come hither and Patrick nearly sways right into him on the spot. 

“Yeah,” Patrick says breathily, then, more firmly, “That sounds - please.” 

The man nods, a series of quick jerks to his head, and he smirks as he says, “So glad it sounds please. Um, it’s called the Wobbly Elm. Google it, or whatever. Eight o’clock. The table will be under _David_.” 

“Eight o’clock,” Patrick repeats as the man waves and disappears into one of the rooms. “David,” he murmurs to himself. 

He really should’ve left that woman a bigger tip, for inadvertently leading to this introduction. 

It’s not until he’s unlocking his car that he realizes he hadn’t left _any_ tip. Fuck. Maybe he can just - slip a few bills under the door to Room 3? 


End file.
